


Lover Girl

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [2]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10041080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: When she had accepted Scott’s fumbling invitation to happy hour with the other guys in the lab, she should have known something was up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> #77 – lessons in love

 

 

 

When she’d accepted Scott’s fumbling invitation to happy hour with the other guys in the lab, she should have known something was up.

 

Her typical night after a hard day of work was grabbing food, lighting up, and watching the rest of whatever Netflix documentary about outer-space she hadn't yet finished. And so Cosima watches as a dark-haired, smoky-eyed woman pushes away from the bar, looks around the strip club aimlessly as she frowns. Despite the press of the Friday night crowd, despite the minuscule sliver of space between bodies that Cosima peers at her through, transfixed not so much by the (lack of) outfit as much as her _hair_ , god damn, the woman looks around slowly, scanning, thinking, and, lo and behold, catches her eye.

 

It’s the kind of eye-contact that steals the breath right out of her lungs, that roots her to the floor, that Cosima knows means her eyes have gone wide and she might be a little slack-jawed right now, staring no differently than Scott or Alex or Raj – and the other woman grins, all teeth, and stalks toward her like a fucking lioness on the hunt. 

 

Is it the gay? Maybe the woman can smell it or something. The other ladies working at the strip club had all gravitated toward the guys, especially Scott, two of whom Cosima was amused to see were currently grinding up on him and clearly getting a kick out of making him blush like the virgin she liked to joke he still was.

 

The woman from the bar slides into view, clearly having lost no time in zeroing in on her, and Cosima looks up, tries not to swallow visibly at the abs and tits right in her face and focus like a rational human being on the other woman's face because she’s been on that end of the stare and it gets old, quick.

 

That leonine smile is still on the other woman’s face as she rests a hand on her own hip, cocks her head and pushes out her chest as she asks coyly, “See anything you like?”

 

And, okay, so – fuck the whole my-eyes-are-up-here gentleman shtick. Cosima bites her bottom lip, sits back a little, gets comfortable, and looks the woman up and down slowly (because she’s been on that end of the stare and, if it’s the right person, damn does it do things to her), before meeting her eyes again, grinning and replying –

 

“I do now.”

 

It's probably the same, tired smart-ass reply the woman's heard over and over again. But the other woman smiles, one that seems to reach flint-hard eyes, and for all her bro posturing Cosima tries not to choke on her own spit as the woman steps forward, grasps the back of the chair quite close to Cosima's head, and straddles her lap in a lazy, fluid move, getting a little closer than Cosima's used to. They're, like, not supposed to touch you, right?

 

But the woman's weight on her lap is real and holds her pleasantly trapped, the warmth of her mostly bare body tangible through the thin material of Cosima's work slacks and sheer blouse, the motion of the woman gyrating against her enough to get her blood rushing like any man's, and Cosima grasps at her seat's armrests to keep from reaching out, from running hands over a trim waist and drawing the woman _closer_  because she's looking at her with a grin that makes Cosima think she might just actually be enjoying this. 

 

But that's stupid, because this whole lap dance is going to cost her. Of course it is, dummy. But, then again, maybe it won't, maybe it won't because two girls giving the club a show is good for business, or maybe it won't because warm hands grasp hers, the other woman guiding them up her thighs and to her ass, and, hey, whatever the reason, you gotta give a woman what she wants, right?

 

Cosima’s aware vaguely of hooting and cheers – the guys – as she grasps at the woman’s amazing ass, as the woman leans forward, as she gets a fantastic view of her cleavage before the woman’s hair falls around them like a curtain, face close.

 

It’s hard to hear over the thumping of the music and the guys’ stupid comments, but the other woman’s voice somehow makes itself heard, low and clear.

 

“I’m Sarah,” the woman says simply, grinning, and it takes Cosima a moment to process becuase, hey, there is a _really_ hot woman grinding in her lap. 

 

"Cosima," Cosima manages to say, quite proud of herself for remembering her own name at the moment because to be fair it's a hard name. And Sarah’s grin grows another watt, Sarah's body almost flush against hers as she grinds with a fucking _purpose_ , as Sarah leans in close enough for their lips to brush in the barest teasing hint of a kiss, and as Sarah asks, cocksure like she already _knows_ the answer - 

 

"You doing anything else tonight, Cos?"

 

 

 


End file.
